


Completion

by StarkDusted



Series: Our Galaxies [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, I REGRET NOTHING, I do what I want, John's five second appearance in the notes at the bottom, M/M, Oh god where did this fluffiness come from, consulting fiances, couldn't help myself, general adorableness, look - Freeform, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 09:04:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6045832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarkDusted/pseuds/StarkDusted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim proposes to Sherlock beneath the stars</p>
            </blockquote>





	Completion

**Author's Note:**

> Entirely unbeta'd and written in half an hour. Enjoy!  
> Also, comments would be greatly appreciated. I like criticism, even if its bad criticism.

This hadn't been what he was expecting when Jim had taken him out here, under the swirling stars without the light pollution of London to hinder their view. It was quiet, the breeze the only sound other than their breath, and yet, the earth seemed to be shattering like glass in his over sensitive ears, because he had _not been expecting this._ Jim was dressed as usual, dark navy blue satiny Westwood that blended into a shade similar to the shining sky above them, telescope abandoned, and now kneeling on one knee before Sherlock with a velvety satin box suspended in his pale palms. Sherlock couldn't think beyond the haze of emotion, a steady cacophony in his ears that was louder than the peak traffic in London on a particularly busy day, because the sentiment of this was one unlike any they had ever shared. They hadn't kissed in public, let alone held hands, but that may be because this relationship was supposed to remain a secret, and now it looked as though the criminal was going to propose. Propose. To him. "What...are you doing?" His voice was barely more than an awed whisper, his eyes flickering between Jim's own dark orbs and the box, unsure where his eyes should remain fixed in this situation. 

 

Jim’s lips twitched upward, dark eyes swimming in amusement. Sherlock swore he could see the sky reflected back at him in those dark orbs, see every glittering star and nebula and whatever other complexities the galaxy held that Jim had yet to teach him about, he could see the entire ever expanding universe; and it was all hidden in the dancing lights of Jim’s eyes. The man in question twisted the unopened box deftly within his fingers, the brush of the velvety box against skin sounding like the sweetest of melodies to Sherlock’s ears.

 

“What does it look like I’m doing, dear? You’re asking _obvious_ questions, that have _obvious_ answers.”  
  
“You’re about to do the same,” Sherlock answered albeit breathlessly, watching as the words seemed to register in Jim’s head slowly, and his usually cocky grin stretched to something more genuine as his eyes dropped to the box clutched tightly within his hands.

 

_Get on with it_ , is what Sherlock wanted to say, fingers twitching and his breathing pattern uneven and slightly out of rhythm after finally having overcome the shock from the situation, it having steadily evolved into anticipation. Sherlock already had his answer, against the very tip of his tongue, ready to be spilled out into the air with a single, life changing breath as soon as Jim asked.  
  
Jim, as always, seemed to see this, and the edges of his lips curled into a faint, barely there smirk, before the box was opened, an odd pop as the box clicked into place, displaying it for Sherlock’s perusal as he seemed to take a steadying breath. Jim’s body stilled partially in hesitation, slowly raising his gaze back to look over Sherlock, who had seemed to have gone back to his previous state of disbelief, as though having the ring there, in his view and acting as clear, indisputable evidence of what was about to occur, had finally managed to snap that gorgeous brain of his to a startling halt.  
  
For once, there was only one thing on Sherlock’s mind. There were no constant deductions, no recitation of relevant information to some other outside stimulus, no thinking about _anything_ else. No, all he could do was think about this one defining moment, both of them suspended in an alternate reality where time ceased to exist, and wait. Wait for he question he never knew he desired until now, until it was happening.

 

Jim wasn’t one to speak about sentiment aloud, neither of them were. Words, for them, were an entirely unnecessary construction. Why waste time breathing and forming words, when nothing would be able to describe exactly what it was that they were feeling? Love was too ordinary, too boring. For them, love was an understatement to what they felt, something that was so breathtaking and time stopping that love was painfully dull in comparison. Sherlock and Jim worked together effortlessly, perfection in their harmony, both a complete contradiction to the other, and yet so similar. The point was, words were inefficient. There was no language that could be used, nothing that was sufficient enough to convey what they meant to the other, when the other clearly already knew.  
  
There wasn’t a need to speak feelings and heartfelt words. No. They let the moment speak for them. They let the world continue spinning around them as it would for years to come, but for them, the moment stretched for infinity.

 

“Sherlock. Will you do me the pleasure of marrying me?”  
  
The words spilled like honey, decadent and fragrant upon the warm wind. Silence. The shuffling as Sherlock came to his knees before Jim, the soft rustling of heavy fabric sliding against the dewy grass and their breath, calm and completely in synchronisation with the other. Sherlock offered no vocal answer. There wasn’t any need to, as he leaned forward, closing the already short distance between them, and answered in a form that both of them understood. One more profound than words as Jim took his hand in his, and slid the ring into place, cool metal and warm lips, the simultaneous sensations finally bringing Sherlock a feeling he had desired all his life.

 

He felt complete.

**Author's Note:**

> EXTENDED ENDING
> 
> John sat in the bushes, shoulder cramping and face twisted in disbelief. Well. He hadn't been expecting this.


End file.
